The Stone and The Devil
by Praveena Rao K
Summary: When Oliver enters the Forbidden Forest, his thoughts are far from peaceful. He has a lot to prove, and a lot of pain to get over. Will The Stone help him find his way? Will his demons be laid to rest? Find out!


" _The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," he began, "I dropped in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"_

" _My dear boy, I do," said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone know else know where it fell?"_

" _No one," said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction._

Oliver Hunt was a stubborn seventeen-year-old. He was also reckless, arrogant and as obstinate as a pig. He was selfish and he rarely regarded anyone else to be as important as he was.

And so on and so forth. Oliver had been hearing the not-so-subtle insults for at least three hours now, and his ears were ringing. As he stomped on the wet wood and mulch formed by dead leaves, he reminded himself for the hundredth time that he needed his uncle. His mission would never succeed otherwise. He thought about the horrors awaiting him in Azkaban. Shuddering, he forced himself to remain immune to Samuel's insults.

Samuel looked at his nephew's depraved appearance and thought that his sweet sister would be rolling in her grave if she could see her son now. His dirty blond hair straggled past his shoulder, and his robes hung loosely on his frame, muddy in places. He would have offered to buy him new clothes but he had refused to feel any pity for his nephew's haggard appearance. He was not quite ready yet to forgive Oliver for strong-arming him into coming with him. And to the Forbidden Forest, for God's sake.

"Uncle, will you please stop shouting?" Oliver said. "There is enough danger here as it is, without you alerting the dormant beasts of this Forest."

"And whose fault that would be?" Samuel barked. "You show up home after missing for two months since Hogwarts! I was beside myself with worry and then you suddenly force me to come to this crazy place without giving me any reason."

Oliver gave him a look of exasperation. "We both know I couldn't have made you come if you did not want to, Uncle."

"Well, I do owe some favor to my sister, with her being dead to see what her reckless son has been up to!"

Oliver ignored his uncle's remarks and took out a machete to hack at a particularly stubborn piece of branch that was blocking their way. They were navigating through a very narrow path along the Forest, and the bushes and thorns along the path were not making it easy for them.

When Oliver had forced Samuel to apparate into to the Forbidden Forest, with him at side-along, he was hoping to land into a familiar area, some place with Hogwarts only a few hours away. Unfortunately, it looked like they had landed in the thick of the Forest. He had suspected his uncle had done it on purpose, but Samuel had gruffly defended himself, "Have never been inside the Forest, now have I? Just concentrated on how it looked like in the distance to me."

Plus, they didn't really know how far the Anti-Apparition spell extended into the Forest, so Oliver guessed that it had been best to appear miles away than be caught. Though it was a known fact that the Forbidden Forest was not so dangerous anymore, with all its creatures abandoning it during the Dark Lord's brief reign all those years ago, it did not make it look any less intimidating. The thick forest itself presented a huge obstacle to them, with its branches extending up to many yards and gnarled roots reaching over five feet high. Of course, Oliver had to hack them down from their path alone, with Samuel refusing to help him with magic as some senseless idea of punishment. It did not seem to occur to him that he was simply making matters worse for Oliver. Though, to be fair, he did not know the truth about Oliver's desperation to reach Hogwarts as soon as possible. He had a sickening fear that his time was running out. He suppressed this feeling by hacking at the maddening branch with more force, but it didn't give. He did not dare use magic; the Ministry of Magic was known for its methods. They would have most definitely discovered a loophole to bend the rule that removed the Trace of underage magic from him when he turned seventeen. He was, after all, a convict on the run.

Samuel finally lost his patience and shoved Oliver aside. "Let me."

He pointed his wand at the stubborn branch and muttered, " _Reducto_."

The branch blew into smithereens.

"Neat." Oliver said. He moved ahead, but Samuel blocked his way.

"I've had enough of this, boy. I want to know what in heaven's name are we doing here. You know that I agreed to come along only because I didn't want you to lose that superfluous head of yours in this foolish mission."

"It's not a foolish mission." Oliver said quietly.

Samuel continued as if Oliver had not spoken. "Of course, I don't believe a thing those idiot Ministry folks are saying about you offing that Hangton boy, but they sure are right about you going crazy ever since Leniah has bit the dirt."

Oliver's face assumed the shuttered look that it always did whenever his mother's name was mentioned.  
"I do not want to talk about this. Can we go? It is growing dark, and we can barely see the way as it is."

Samuel wagged a finger at him. "Don't you think you can get off that easily," He pointed to Oliver's robe beneath the folds of which his dormant wand was lying, unused. "I understand why you are not using that wand of yours. Which means that you need me. And I refuse to help until I know the complete truth."

He folded his hands across his front and assumed the look of someone who wouldn't budge until he got what he wanted. Oliver looked at this uncle's stubborn expression and, for the first time in two months, he felt tired. Tired of running. Tired of looking over his shoulder, of thinking two steps ahead to keep from being captured. And most of all, he was tired of carrying the horrible secret that he hadn't told anyone – first because he hadn't remembered it, and now because no one would believe him anyway. He missed having a shoulder to lie on; he missed his mother's strength that in no way had diminished her warmth and softness. He knew without any doubt that she would have stood by him even when the world was against him, and fought for his innocence. Just like his uncle was doing now. Samuel was as much in danger as he was in now, because by aiding Oliver, he had become an accomplice. His uncle was right. He deserved the whole truth.

Oliver sighed and sat on the nearest boulder. It was moist with moss, but had a flat surface and Oliver was too tired to care. He took a swig from the water pouch he held at his side and gestured Samuel to join him. Samuel sat on an opposite identical rock, looking suspicious that Oliver had acquiesced so easily. He shook his head when Oliver offered him the pouch and asked, "So, are you going to tell me now?"

Oliver nodded. He looked around, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat and thought about where to start. How did one begin telling the story of his life when he remembered only bits and pieces of it? He caught a flash of white at the bushes on his left and doubled back but there was nothing. He frowned. He did get occasional glimpses of what he thought was a unicorn, but it was always gone before he could be sure. He turned back, and took a deep breath.

"You know what happened on that day, right?"

Samuel nodded. "Only what the papers say. That Hangton was found dead and bleeding in one of the wings in Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower, and you were in there with him, covered in his blood. The walls were splattered with the blood. That it was gruesome."

Oliver flexed his fists, like it was difficult to think about that day but trudged on. "They didn't believe I killed him at first," he whispered. They hadn't. He had stood there, his brain shut down, nauseated by the blood and not remembering how on earth he had ended up there. Why his best friend, partner in crime, Droidus Hangton, was staring at him, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Why Oliver's wand was pointing at him. His professors, Professor McGonagall, head of his house, Gryffindor, and Professor Sinistra, their Astronomy teacher, had looked shocked and pale, not believing what they were seeing. Finally McGonagall had ushered a stunned Oliver, taking him to the hospital wing. He didn't know who cleaned up behind.

"But they found you guilty later," Samuel said in a low voice.

"Yes they did. They took my wand and …"

" _Priori Incantetum,_ " Samuel finished.

"The last spell the wand performed was _Sectumsempra_." He looked at his uncle's shocked face helplessly. It was a banned spell, invented and used by Severus Snape, once rumored to have been used by Harry Potter – though never proved, but banned ever since. "I didn't even know the wand movement or the correct incantation. I tried to tell it to them, but there was no proof, everything was against me!"

"If you didn't..who did?"

"I don't know!" Agitated now, Oliver rose up and started pacing on the forest floor. "I don't remember!"

There. It was out now.

His uncle looked puzzled. "What do you mean, you don't remember?"

"It means I don't remember! My last memory before the incident is coming up to the Astronomy Tower with Droidus, but after that, everything is a blur. I only remember flashes and glares, but nothing conclusive. I certainly don't remember using the _Sectumsempra_ curse on Droidus."

Samuel was silent. He looked at his nephew, his face filled with anguish. He asked the most obvious question that was in his mind, though impossible at this age. He just wanted to see how far gone Oliver was.

"Are you saying you were possessed?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not just that." he whispered. "I think I encountered the _Devilkin._ "

Samuel stood up and said, "This is it. I'm taking you to St. Mungo's. I'm sure the authorities will grant you a less intense sentence when they realize that you –"

"I am not _mental_!" Oliver yelled.

"Well, you have lost your mind for sure," Samuel yelled right back. "Devilkins in Hogwarts. Do you even know what you are talking about?"

"Yes! I have had two months of utter helplessness to figure it out!"

"Well you figured it out wrong, then," Samuel shot back. "Evil spirits are part of the folkfore and they don't exist. Don't go on believing them."

"I know they exist. I could feel it there. And I'm going back there to prove that one exists in the north-eastern wing of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts."

"Just five minutes back, you said you did not remember a thing." Samuel retorted.

Oliver refused to take bait. "Devilkins are ensnaring devils. They trap you, possess you and then wipe your memory."

"Mythological." Samuel countered.

"No. I've read enough books and extracted enough information to know that they are _not_ mythological. And that they can never be killed, only -"

His uncle cut him off. "Where did you get the information? And when you say 'extracted'- don't tell me," he said as Oliver opened his mouth to answer. "I don't want to know."

"What other explanation could you have for this? You do not think that I did this consciously!"

"I think," Samuel said, choosing his words carefully, "that you have not been in the best of shapes ever since Leniah has died."

"This is not about mother."

"I think it is," Samuel said, his expression filling with pity.

"Do not make this about mother!" Oliver shouted. He hated the pity looks he received; he had wanted to shout every time he received one from his friends, teachers last year. He started pacing again, changed his mind, and sat back on the rock. "You don't know, you haven't been with me in Hogwarts and that's where I was since her death!"

"And as your guardian, your Professors have kept me updated on your activities in school. Tell me, Oliver, what were you doing in the Astronomy Tower that night, when you knew perfectly well that you weren't supposed to be out of bed?"

"You can hardly blame me-"

"Especially when you had already been threatened to be suspended if you broke another rule? A former prefect, behaving this way. How does it make sense?"

"So I broke a few rules. I don't know what that has got to do with –"

"Broke into a teacher's chamber." Samuel interrupted. "Let a snake loose into the Slytherin dungeons. Plunged down from the fifth floor."

"I swear that was an accident. I only meant to scare that nosy cat."

But Samuel wasn't done listing his crimes. "Broke a fellow Gryffindor's wand. And finally," his eyes bore into Oliver's. "Tried to kill yourself."

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't going to jump that day."

"But you were certainly thinking of. Now tell me, Oliver, that I am wrong in assuming that something is wrong," he tapped his head.

Oliver was furious that his uncle had been kept so regularly informed about his behavior. But he could hardly blame Samuel for not believing him right away. Oliver didn't want to think about his behavior the past year. It had felt like he had been running away but hadn't looked where he was heading. Hadn't seen the quagmire that had pulled him down.

"However," Samuel was telling, "I _am_ inclined to believe that you are not as demented since you had the presence of mind to let me know what you were doing."

Oliver had wanted to go alone, but had thankfully come to his senses at the last minute and decided to take his uncle's help.

"Does it mean you believe me now?" he asked sullenly.

"I don't know. But I have no choice to turn back now, have I? I might as well come with you to keep you from going further down the path of self destruction."

Oliver and Samuel walked through the forest for next hour without speaking, each lost in his thoughts. Oliver hadn't expected his uncle to believe him right away, but some part of him had been hoping for the impossible. He shrugged, taking comfort in the fact that he was not alone. He prayed that he could prove his innocence, if not for him but for his uncle, who was risking everything to protect him.

The Forest seemed to be growing denser, or maybe it was growing darker, he couldn't tell. The canopy of trees was so thick that barely a ray of light trickled down. Samuel muttered something and light erupted from his wand. A tangle of twigs lay ahead, showing more trees ahead. Shadows danced around them, impossible to discern from the looming leaves and branches. Oliver reached out to pull a twig out of the way and came to a full stop. He heard Samuel stop right behind him.

"What the-where did this come from?"

A huge clearing lay ahead, surrounded by clumps of trees and bushes, the soil wet and clear of dead leaves and critters, unlike the path they had come from. The clearing's appearance was so sudden that Samuel and Oliver were taken aback for a moment, unable to speak. Oliver could swear he had not seen this a moment before, there had only been more trees ahead. Samuel strode forward with his wand held aloft and glanced around suspiciously. Oliver followed, his own wand held before him, and examined the borders of the clearing. The trees were twisted at weird angles, as if they had been pushed together forcefully to form the clearing. This did not look natural. It made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

"I do not like this."

"No more than I do," Samuel replied. "Let's get out of here."

Oliver found the exit on the opposite end and made his way out, his uncle close behind. They had no more than left it before they encountered a similar clearing. Quickly, they crossed over to the end, only to reach another.

"This is insane," Samuel muttered, as they reached their eighth clearing. "What sort of forest is made of so many clearings?"

"Not many." Oliver said as he crouched to examine the trunk of one of the trees. "Uncle, come here." He called out.

Samuel reached Oliver's side. "What?"

Oliver pointed to the tree next to him.

"What-" Samuel broke off and looked at the tree more closely. A little 'X' was crudely carved onto the trunk, definitely not one the whorls made by the bark.

"Well, well. Who do you suppose put it there?" he asked.

"I did." Oliver said. "About a half an hour ago."

"But how did you-" A look of understanding dawned on Samuel's face and he abruptly rose, studying the clearing again.

"Merlin's Beard," he whispered. "Unless I'm mistaken, we have just been trapped in the _Endless Glades_ spell."

" _Endless_ what?"

"The _Endless Glades_ spell," Samuel repeated. He looked around in wonder. "An extremely complicated spell, tricky if not done right." He faced Oliver. "A series endless clearings like this one, meant to trap the victims in a seemingly infinite limbo. Designed to confuse."

"Victims being us." Oliver pointed out, feeling as if someone had dropped bricks into the hollow of his stomach.

Samuel nodded. "This is really advanced magic. The power it must have taken to push the trees..and such ancient ones."

Oliver grew impatient with worry. "Uncle, will you stop admiring the magic and concentrate on getting out of here?"

"Oh yes, yes," Samuel nodded absently. "Fortunately for us, I have stumbled on this before, though not one so advanced. Such spells always leave a loophole for the victims. Extremely difficult to find, though."

"What kind of loophole?"

"Oh, anything out of ordinary. In this case, the spell conceived is to mislead the victim by playing out an infinite loop of the same clearing."

Oliver wished his uncle would stop referring to them as victims.

"Are you saying we need to play 'find the difference' between the clearings to get out?" he asked incredulously.

" _Clearing_ ," Samuel corrected. "Single. Remember, there is only one clearing, as demonstrated by your little 'X'. But don't worry; I'm sure there should be something here that shouldn't be. Start probing." He continued his analysis of the clearing, searching.

Great, Oliver thought, as he took in the surrounding. Something that shouldn't be here. The clearing itself wasn't supposed to be here. He shook his head and imitated his uncle, trying to find something different, though he had no idea how or what.

After two fruitless searching, during which Oliver had seen so many details of the glade that he could paint it with his eyes closed, his uncle let out a shout. Oliver shot to his side, who was pointing to a wild bush. It looked like any ordinary bush, dark green with thorns poking out of it and one single white flower hidden between the leaves. Oliver started to speak, when something stirred in his memory about diamond shaped leaves from one of his Herbology classes. A _Blarythryn_ bush it was, he remembered. And _Blarythryn_ bushes had no flowers.

Oliver smiled slowly, and his uncle smiled back. They had found the loophole.

This time, when they got out of the clearing, there was no other clearing waiting for them, which meant that the spell had been broken.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to be back among these trees again." Samuel said, trudging along the path with Oliver, their way again hindered by the thick branches hanging from the old gnarled trees.

Oliver agreed, but his relief on coming out of the limbo clearing was hampered by an uneasiness that he couldn't get rid of. The spell hadn't looked that old and he was having a nagging feeling that they weren't alone in the Forest.

It was dark when they happened upon the excavation. What little light did manage to wedge through the leaves had begun to fade some time ago, and Samuel suggested that they stop for the night.

"My old limbs cannot take the stress much, something a young 'un wouldn't understand," he had sneered, though Oliver had raised no objection out loud on being forced to stop. Hogwarts seemed miles away still, and he was worried that his time was running out. He wished he knew what he was dealing with. Despite his defiance, he wasn't completely sure that it was a Devilkin resting in the bowels of the castle. Wringing his hands, he followed his uncle through the woods as he searched for a suitable place to rest; wondering what would happen if he were to be completely wrong in this. He shook himself mentally. No, he couldn't think that. He had to be fairly certain about his theory. He couldn't lose it. Not now. Not when he was so close and his uncle almost believed him. He looked at the back of Samuel's head. Despite his seemingly lack of support, he knew his uncle believed that there was some thread of truth in Oliver's story, or else he wouldn't have come with him. It wouldn't take too much strength on his part to forcefully haul Oliver back home and keep him in hiding or admit him into 's.

"Here." His uncle's voice echoed somewhere ahead of him. Oliver followed the source of his voice. He was standing on the edge of a vast hollow, which had been cleared of trees. As a result, the ground was lit with the stars that blanketed the sky above and Oliver felt some relief on seeing real light at last, not one generated by a wand. That did not mean he liked it.

"Are you sure this isn't one of the endless glades?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

Samuel shook his head. "I know this place. Or at least, I know _of_ it. This was formerly the lair of the Acromantula species, headed by their great leader Aragog."

"How do you know that they're not here anymore?" Oliver craned his neck around, fearing some huge spider would come scuttling down towards them any time now.

"They're not." Samuel said confidently. "The Dark Lord and his followers drove them away ages ago."

Oliver was surprised. "You mean, this is the place where Harry Potter survived the _Avada Kedavra_ curse for the second time?"

His uncle nodded. He walked inside the open-roofed cave. "I think we can setup camp here tonight."

"Here? Are you sure it's safe?" Oliver asked, dubious. He wasn't a big fan of spiders in their normal size, let alone ten feet tall ones.

"It is the ideal place. Don't worry," Samuel reassured Oliver. "It's safe. Or as safe as it can be without hideous spiders and evil wizards."

They set their tent up - Samuel did it by using magic, while Oliver tried without. They went about their tasks in silence. The forest floor was relatively dry here and not a single grass poked its way through the black soil. It was as if nature knew evil had taken place here and refused to give it life. Oliver thought this place shouldn't be remembered for its bad. Harry Potter had come back alive after sacrificing his life for a great cause - a miracle had happened here; and he had eventually defeated the Dark Lord, freeing the world again from his malevolent reign. This place should have been revered instead of being abandoned.

He wandered to the ridge that bordered the entrance and looked out. So many miles to go. He didn't know how deep in the forest was Aragog's lair, but surely it wasn't that far. From what Samuel said, it would not take more than a day now to reach the borders of Hogwarts now. Tomorrow, he'd be in Hogwarts. He would be able to prove his innocence, would be able to face the malevolent force that had controlled him for a brief time. He would go to the Astronomy Tower and…what? Get possessed by the Devilkin again? What if the Devilkin had fled the place? _What if you are wrong_ , a small voice came unbidden into his mind. Oliver shook his head free of the disturbing thoughts and yelled to his uncle.

"I'm stepping out to collect some wood for the fire."

Samuel grunted.

He had mostly been communicating in grunts ever since they had escaped the _Endless Glades_. The only conversations they had had been in patches about rest stops and water. As Oliver walked towards the nearest tree, machete in hand, he wondered what was going on in the older man's head.

Samuel knew he should take Oliver back. He had been devastated by Leniah's death and save Samuel, he had no other kin. Oliver's father had died years ago, leaving them barely anything to survive on. But Leniah was strong, his sister was, he thought fondly. She had taken up a job as a clerk in the Ministry of Magic and did a fine job of raising her son. Though Samuel did feel that sometimes she was too doting on him, the kind-hearted yet strong young man his nephew turned out to be didn't leave Samuel voicing any of his concerns. They had a bonding that always made him feeling left out, though he didn't mind. They needed each other. It had been endearing to see.

Until Leniah up and died, leaving Oliver alone. It was a freak accident and they hadn't expected the rotating wheel that monitored the daily weather in the Ministry to blast into fragments. Three witches and two wizards had died along with Leniah. Oliver had been inconsolable. Samuel had all but dragged him into the Hogwarts train, forcing him to complete his last year in school. Samuel now wondered if things had been different if he had let Oliver stay back. But Samuel wasn't one to brood long, and he concentrated on the problem at task. He wanted to believe that Oliver was not completely addled. Any fool could see that a soft soul like Oliver would never have done something so horrendous to his best friend. But something had happened there. He didn't believe Oliver's cock-and-bull story about a Devilkin, but he definitely wanted to learn the truth. And that was why he was up for this crazy plan of breaking into Hogwarts. He needed to protect the only family he had.

Oliver was hoarding up logs and walking along the twig-ridden path when he stumbled upon the stone. It was shining in the moonlight and he dropped his load down, crouching to examine it. It was smooth and black, with a big crack through its middle as it had been smashed against a hard object. Its smooth surface was marred by tiny scratches. It did not look like an ordinary stone, and it certainly didn't look like it belonged in the mucky forest floor. He picked it up and rose, holding it against the light. He closed his fist on it and lifted up the logs again, and made his way into the hollow.

His uncle was skinning rabbits for dinner.

"I didn't know rabbits existed in the Forest," he remarked as he dropped the logs for fire on the floor.

Samuel merely shrugged. Oliver gave up and arranged the logs for a bonfire. He was searching for a match when his uncle gave a flick and the wood caught fire.

While his uncle skewered and roasted the rabbits, Oliver stared at the fire, the flames dancing in his golden eyes. He thought about the stone he'd stuffed inside his pocket. For some inexpressible reason, he felt drawn to it. He thought of taking it out and showing it to Samuel, but something stopped him.

They had dinner in silence and made their beds inside the tents. Oliver wondered when his uncle would come around to asking what was he planning to do once he reached Hogwarts. He didn't that night. He merely disappeared inside the tent, and after a few minutes, Oliver could hear gentle snoring. He entered the tent and stretched on his own sleeping bag, his mind full of perturbing thoughts. Eventually, he felt himself drift off.

Oliver dreamt of his mother that night. He dreamt of her beckoning him with her hands, her beautiful face pale but lively, her eyes dancing. She was smiling and he thought she looked blissful. He wished he could be with her. He felt the stone in the palm of his and rolled it about. Suddenly, his mother's expression changed. It became cloudy, and one of regret, her eyes filling with tears. Oliver wanted to call out, console her, but he couldn't find his voice. She faded away, her face filled with unhappiness.

He woke up to the feeling of an odd but familiar presence. Rising up, he found that his uncle's bag was empty, and rolled up his own bag. He could not shake of the feeling that he was not alone, and he was about to call out for his uncle when he saw her. Standing just five feet behind him. His dead mother.

Oliver blinked. He shut his eyes hard and opened them again. She was there. She wasn't a figment of his imagination. She was pale, almost barely there.

"Mother?" he whispered hoarsely.

"You shouldn't have picked it up," she said, her voice whispery soft, like winds that breezed by in seconds.

He stepped towards her, hardly believing his eyes. She wasn't a ghost because she wasn't transparent. But she looked like a pale imprint of her former self, like a shadow that was left behind when she died.

"Are you real?" he croaked.

"I am," she replied sadly. Her sorrow, however, was lost on him as he drunk his fill of the mother he lost the year back.

"How did you-?" he asked, unable to manage the words.

"It was the stone, Ollie. You shouldn't have picked it up."

Oliver did not understand. Before he could ask any further however, he heard footsteps and he turned to find his uncle returning to the camp.

"Way seems clear," he was saying. "If we leave now, we should be able to make it there by nightfall. Though Merlin only knows what you will you do once you get there-"

"Uncle." Oliver said quietly. He waited for Samuel to look at him, waited for his reaction on seeing his dead sister alive. But he didn't react. In fact, he didn't look at Leniah at all. He looked questioningly at Oliver.

Oliver was puzzled. "Don't you see her?"

"See who?"

Oliver pointed. Samuel stared unseeingly at Leniah and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Mother!" he said, now earnest. "Mother has come back! She is right here, can't you see her?"

Samuel looked at him strangely. "Are you feeling all right? You're not having one of your nightmares now, are you?"

It was then that Oliver realized that he alone could see Leniah. His spirits plummeted. If she was really back, everyone should have been able to see her. He looked back and saw her, as real as anything, and she gave him a small smile. How was it possible? Why was only he able to see her?

"It is common," Samuel's voice softly broke into his thoughts,"for someone who lost a loved one, to hallucinate their presence-"

"I am not hallucinating, I am not mad!" Oliver shouted. "She is there! I don't know why you cannot see her. Now let's go!" He stormed out of the hollow, hauling his backpack on his shoulders.

Shaking his head in despair, Samuel followed, sure that his nephew had lost it and Samuel was leading him to danger.

Oliver had a lot to say to his mother. He had always been very close to her, and she was the one he confided everything to, from the school problems he faced to the crushes he had. He did not care that his uncle thought he was mad. God had somehow given him his mother back, and he wasn't going to question it. In his enthusiasm, he failed to notice that his mother did not respond to him, in fact, she barely even spoke.

He was in the middle of describing a particularly hilarious prank he had played on his Slytherin classmate to his mother, when he noticed a flash of white again. He stopped in his tracks.

"What happened? Why did you stop?" Samuel asked from behind.

"I think I saw something." Oliver said.

"You see a lot of things, boy. Tell me why I should believe it."

Oliver ignored his uncle and went over to inspect the gap between branches where he had seen the flash. It came again.

"There!" he shouted. "I see it again!" Though this time, it looked more like the tail of a white robe than a Unicorn.

Samuel came up behind him and caught it just as it vanished out of sight.

"Well, well," he murmured. "Looks like we are not alone here, after all."

He nudged Oliver and silently gestured him to get through to the tree where the man or whatever was wearing the white robe had vanished. Oliver nodded, and slowly went forward, his wand held aloft and his uncle by his side. The man wearing the white robe appeared before they could reach the tree.

Oliver dropped his wand.

"Droidus," he whispered. His dead friend was standing before him.

It seemed to be the day for the dead to come alive. Droidus was dressed in white, but his features were more defined than Leniah's, who was more like a blur. A quick intake of breath at his side indicated that his uncle had seen him as well. He wondered if he recognized Droidus now. In the papers, Droidus was pictured as hearty and grinning, handsome boy. The person who stood before them bore little resemblance to the picture. His skin had a greenish tinge to it, and his face and hands were pockmarked. Gashes, open but with no blood pouring out of them like Oliver had in his memory, marked all patches of his skin. His neck was a little bent and mouth slightly open and his eyes had no eyeballs. Oliver felt sick at his friend's appearance. He seemed to not hear Oliver's voice and zeroed in on him, walking with jerky movements. He either chose to ignore Samuel or could not see him as Samuel charged towards Droidus, his wand pointing at him.

Oliver hurriedly bent to pick his own wand but before he could, he felt clammy fingers around his neck. His eyes bugged out, and he felt his feet being lifted off the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samuel blasting curse after curse, but it did not seem to faze him.

"Droidus, you know I didn't kill you!" Oliver choked out. "It was the monster!"

Droidus increased the pressure, until Oliver's breath threatened to cut off. Suddenly, the fingers at his neck loosened.

Oliver felt cold but gentle hands surrounding him, and he looked down at his mother taking him into her arms. Droidus had fallen onto the ground, a machete stuck in his back. A feeling of dread filled him.

"Looks like the muggle way of killing actually worked." Samuel said, sounding amazed. He looked up at Oliver. "I guess I finally believe you now. He was possessed."

Oliver dropped down to the ground.

"No!" he cried, clutching his dead friend's body. "He was my best friend!" Tears streamed from his eyes, and he resisted his uncle's attempts to pull him up.

"He was dead for a long time, Oliver," he said. "You should let the dead stay dead."

Oliver knew Samuel was not just talking about Droidus but he chose to ignore it. He let his uncle drag him up away from Droidus's body. His eyes found her and she was there right with him, her expression one of sadness mingled with reassurance.

"I will be there for you," she said. For better or for the worse, she was, Oliver thought, and felt the misery coming from her.

It was nightfall when they finally reached the edge of the Forest that bordered Hogwarts. Hogwarts was as majestic as Oliver had last seen the past year and Oliver felt nostalgic as he gazed at the lights glowing from the numerous windows in the castle. He remembered the happy memories he had had within its walls, the birthdays he celebrated, the Christmas presents he opened, the grand feasts in the Great Hall. If only these memories weren't marred by the events that had occurred here during his last days. His gut twisted as he thought of what lay ahead of him. It was today or never. He wished he had a plan. He wished he knew what he was looking for. He held his mother's hand tightly, seeking assurance. She pressed his hand back, infusing him with her strength. Suddenly, his fear vanished. He was tired, muddy and his skin burned where Droidus's fingers had gripped him, but he felt better than he had in days. He was no longer sitting on his butt, hiding, trying to escape himself. Trying to evade problems. Here he was, facing them head on.

"I'm sorry I let you down," he said to his mother. She merely smiled. The ever-present sadness in her eyes broke his heart, and he yearned to find out what distressed to find her so. But every time he asked, she told him just one thing.

"You shouldn't have picked up the stone."

Oliver now understood that her presence at his side had something to do with the black stone he'd picked off the ridge at Aragog's lair, but he wasn't sure what. He was sure of one thing. He didn't ever want her to leave him. He gripped her hand harder and looked around her to Samuel, who was surveying the castle grimly. He seemed to have come with terms somewhat with the fact that Oliver could see his mother, now that Droidus's resurrection and his deteriorated condition had finally proved Oliver's theory.

Samuel spoke first. "We need disillusionment charms."

Oliver nodded. "It may not hide us completely, but it will help us move undetected under the cover of darkness across the grounds."

Samuel tapped his and Oliver's heads smartly with his wand, and Oliver experienced an illusion of an egg being cracked on his head. He felt the charm trickle down and took a deep breath. It was time.

They managed to reach the castle doors undetected, though there was an awkward movement when they ran into Professor Sprouts, the Herbology teacher, who was obviously on the way to her quarters from the greenhouse. She seemed have noticed something odd, because she paused as she crossed their way and squinted at his side, where Samuel was supposed to be. Oliver held his breath, sure that they would be hauled into the castle now. He really had not wanted to hurt any of the professors on the way. But the danger passed as Sprouts merely shrugged and moved on, apparently deciding that whatever she saw was just a trick of the castle lights. Oliver let out a breath of relief.

The doors were mercifully open, and both of them let themselves in. Samuel had told him to hide inside the cupboard ten feet away to the right, directly below the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower. Oliver hurried forward, his mother following him like an ominous shadow. Once inside, he tensed as he heard the door open again. He relaxed when he realized it was just his uncle, who had lifted the disillusionment charm off himself now.

"Almost got caught by that annoying Argus Filch, but he got distracted by some first years out in the corridors," he said, as he rapped on Oliver's head. "Some things just don't change here," he said fondly.

Oliver felt the charm lift.

"Now what?" his uncle asked him.

"Now we go to the Astronomy Tower."

Samuel nodded. "I do hope you know what you are doing. I am with you till whatever this ends up into, but I do hope you know what you are doing."

Oliver wished he could live up to his uncle's faith. God knew he hadn't done anything to deserve it. Impulsively, he clasped Samuel's hand. "

"Uncle, I want to say," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me. And I'm sorry that I have put you in this situation. I wish –" his voice broke.

"Now don't go making me all sentimental," Samuel said gruffly, but his eyes were shining. "You are my only living relative. What use am I if I cannot help you get out of this rather twisted mess you have gotten yourself into?"

Oliver chuckled and turned towards his mother.

"Mother, I cannot –" He broke off as she shook her head. She bent his head down and kissed her forehead, her eyes glistening with tears. She radiated waves of anguish, but he did not think of what could possibly make her so sad.

 _Let the dead stay dead._

He remembered his uncle's words and wondered if he was being unwise in his stubbornness in not letting her go. By now he had realized that his mother was somehow tethered to him, and she did not intend to leave his side until he let her go. But he wasn't quite ready yet.

Oliver and Samuel crept along the stairs, glancing from side to side, their wands held upward. Leniah floated alongside. The castle was quiet, retired for the night, and except for occasional creeks and squeaks that one expected from a castle as ancient as Hogwarts, nothing seemed to be out of ordinary. As they reached the third flight of stairs, the landing opened up to a corridor whose ends seemed to be swallowed by darkness. The bronze wall brackets here were unlit, probably because no one came up here; admittance to the Astronomy Tower was allowed only during classes.

Oliver edged forward towards the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Samuel whispered. Oliver gestured towards the corridor.

"This is the place we sneaked to that night."

"What's present at the end of it?" Samuel asked.

"We never found out."

Throat dry, Oliver wasted no more time in entering the corridor. Samuel followed. He lit his wand, and the corridor flooded with light. Still, the light didn't seem to be enough to reach the further confines of the corridor. They walked cautiously, their footsteps light, eyes and ears alert. The corridor seemed to go on endlessly and fifteen minutes later, they were still on it, now both ends of it dark.

"Is there an end to this thing?" Samuel asked. His voice echoed off the walls of the corridor. Oliver winced. He put a finger to his lips.

"I don't know," he whispered to his uncle. "I have no memory beyond entering this."

Samuel cast his wand on the parapet walls of the corridor as he digested this information. The castle rafters were visible from here, which rose up to the ceiling. He opened his mouth to say something, but froze suddenly. Oliver registered his uncle's expression and turned in the direction where his uncle was staring.

A thin black smoke was unfurling from one of the beams, as if the wood was on fire. Except that this did not look like ordinary smoke. The smoke descended towards them, its ends licking the edges of the parapet, its thick blackness becoming more defined as it approached them. Samuel and Oliver backed off until they hit the other wall. Oliver dived as the creature's tail lashed at him, barely missing his neck.

The top of the creature formed an oval shape, one purple slit for an eye and a hole for a mouth. A hole widening now to form a revolting smile. It would have looked funny if it wasn't so chilling.

A sound issued from the hole, as smoky as the Devilkin's surface. It was barely a rasp but it was sinister enough to send a shiver down Oliver's spine. "Look who is back. If it isn't my favorite vessel of all time." The Devilkin sneered.

Its tail was still pointing at Oliver's neck and he was forced to put his chin up. "You killed my friend," he said, his eyes on the single purple slit.

"I didn't, my dear boy. You did," it cocked its head. "Do you remember? Oh you don't now, do you?"

Oliver didn't say anything. The Devilkin moved forward, hissing, " _Let me remind you._ "

Oliver shut his eyes, shaking from head to toe, gripping his wand, not a single incantation coming to mind. But the onslaught he expected didn't come. He heard wilder hissing, and he opened his eyes to see his uncle wielding his wand at the Devilkin. Whatever curse he was muttering under his breath, it was causing immense pain to the Devilkin, and though Oliver knew the incantation from the books he'd read, he had never tried it before. Heart beating fast, he raised his wand to attack the Devilkin at both sides but suddenly, everything collapsed.

One of his uncle's curses had hit the beams and caused an explosion of wood splinters and blocks to come flying at them. Oliver threw his arms over his head and hit the floor hard, yelling for Samuel.

"Uncle!"

There was series of blasts, loud sounds of heavy wood hitting the floors and then, nothing. Suddenly, everything was silent. A girl screamed somewhere below.

"Uncle!" Oliver yelled again. There was no response.

"It looks like it's just me and you then," a voice whispered on his left, dangerously close. Oliver felt the hair at the back of his neck raise, the same way it did when they had encountered the Endless Glades.

"You setup the Endless Glades in the Forest," he blurted.

The Devilkin hovered next to him, its expression full of malice. "Your dear friend Droidus did. I couldn't let you come back alive!" it spat.

Oliver thought fast. The explosion had been deafening. Surely someone would come up to investigate the source. If he could hold on until then…

"But I came back."

"Yes you did. You were lucky to escape me the first time. And now, again! No. This cannot happen. I wonder what will happen to you if you were caught again, charged with the murder of your dear uncle this time." It let out a laugh that grated on Oliver's nerves. He slowly edged his hand sideways, groping the floor for his wand.

It let out a shrill whistle, and swooped over him, but this time, Oliver was ready.

" _Diffindo!_ " he cried.

Black silvery ropes erupted from the end of his wand and wrapped itself around the Devilkin. Its thrashing tail caught Oliver on the shoulder and slashed a huge arc though his collarbone. He gasped, and pressed his hand against the blood spurting out. The binding spell was useless, since the Devilkin was made of smoke and ropes could hardly hold it. But it gave Oliver the time to move away from its attacking vicinity. He found a big plank of wooden beam that had fallen diagonally across the corridor. Painfully, his knees burning where the skin had been scraped, he inched his way over it and fell onto the other side.

He leaned against the wall, panting heavily, his shirt stained with blood.

"So we are playing hideout now, are we?" the voice came from the other side. Oliver clapped a hand on his mouth. It was taking forever for someone to come to his aide. He had no help. He shut his eyes against the painful realization. He opened his eyes and faced his mother, who was looking at him in concern. She cradled his head between her palms.

"You can do this. I know it," she said, her calm voice an anchor to him amid storms. He hugged her tightly and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and forced his knees to stop shaking.

"I'm here. And this time, I prefer you get it over with as soon as possible."

The Devilkin swooped again, its tail slashing his arm as he ducked. He tried the binding spell again but missed, and the Devilkin thrashed through the splintered wooden blocks and used its tail to encircle his neck. "Let me see how you escape now."

Almost choking, Oliver struggled to raise his wand and pointed.

" _Irretio!_ "

The Devilkin froze, ensnared in a spell of its own doing. The tail loosened around his neck and the Devilkin fell into a heap of black smoke on the floor. Oliver reached inside his pocket and pulled out a glass vial he hadn't dare hoped he would get to use. Silently, using his wand, he transferred the black substance into the vial and firmly stoppered it. He looked at the swirling contents of the vial.

"Now you will not be trapping anyone anymore."

After that, everything had been relatively easy. One of the professors had come up and been shocked to see Oliver. However, having the glass vial and his injured uncle's word was enough to convince everyone that Oliver was guilt-free. Now, he lay on the hospital bed, contemplating the events of the night, unable to believe that he was finally free. Oliver's shoulder and forehead were tightly wrapped in bandage, but he was expected to be as good as new in two days. Madam Pomfrey's salve worked like magic on Devilkin wounds. His uncle lay next to him, unconscious due to the drugging potion given by Madam Pomfrey. The wooden beams had hit him hard on his head, and the potion was meant to dull the pain.

Oliver sighed. Tomorrow, people would come, visit him and congratulate him. But now, in the silence of the night, he wanted savor his victory. His mother sat next to him, her expression, as always, a mixture of unhappiness and love. He reached for her hand.

"I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

She nodded, smiling faintly.

"I have to let you go now, right?"

She nodded again.

His heart broke. "Please take me with you," he whispered.

His mother leaned towards him and placed her hand on this cheek.

"You belong in the land of living, my love. Your time is not up yet."

Tears began flowing from his eyes. "I love you, mother."

"I love you too, Ollie." They touched fingertips. "Don't forget, I am always watching over you."

And then, as Oliver watched, she faded, becoming paler and paler, until she was not there anymore.

Oliver did not want to go back to the Forest ever, but this was something he had to do and his uncle was sure to hound him about it. He trudged deeper into the forest until he reached a place he was sure he would never remember. He reached into his pocket, and took out the stone. Part of him rebelled against what had to be done, but the other part urged him to do what was right.

He drew his arm as high as possible and flung the stone. It flew through the air, landing in the thick of forest, its fall not making any sound.

As he walked back to Hogwarts, Oliver felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted off his chest, and there was a light spring to his step.

** **THE END** **


End file.
